z. soledad

i have been opening to the blessings of solitude
since, in some ways, i have no choice.

i thought again of names.

zefina soledad

she that god has blessed with increase
yet who is often alone...

some part of my soul has named herself.

and it is good.

inception

Sat., Aug. 23, 1986

Dear Diary,  

I just got you today. I'm going to write a [sic] lots of stuff in you. 
I can't sleep tonight so I took you out, unlocked you and wrote in you. good night. 

Lesley :-)

beginnings

i started writing...pretty suddenly, in fact.

the hardest part is that i have no idea where the story is going, or if it's even a story. i could be scribbling some elaborate back story that doesn't even make it to the finished product.  whatever that is.  

i truly don't know.

and that's scary.

i used to stifle myself because i had to have a direction. after a certain age, i did not--for whatever reason--believe in trusting the process or the journey.  no clearly defined "project" meant no writing.

now i'm more willing to let that line that pops up at 3am guide me wherever it's trying to go.  i listen to the characters and transcribe their words; i don't immediately dismiss them because their story doesn't fit into whatever mold i thought i was dealing with.

the beginning is about loss of control.  pure flow...water from a faucet.

micromanagement is for editing.  

so, i've returned to youthful creative habits.  taking breaths and tuning in.  more deep listening than i thought possible...or maybe than i forgot was possible.

let's see where it takes me...

for women who are 'difficult' to love

still in love with this.

if it's possible to have a theme-poem, i think this might be mine.

you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love. 

- Warsan Shire 

naming

{a follow up to this}

almost a year ago, i found out that i was born on st. joseph's day. thus, one of my names could very well have been josephine...well, if we were catholic and all.

i've always liked that name. especially its french pronunciation.

i also dig some of the variations: jayzl and zefina stand out.

today i sought out the meaning: god will increase.

might have to find a way to incorporate that somewhere...

as above, so below: a written meditation

some of us are comets, shooting stars, and meteors, 
meant to flash briefly, beautifully across the sky.

others are stars: fixed, nearly timeless;
distant, but burning bright with exemplary fire.

there are also planets among us:
folks creating and sustaining entire ecosystems in and around ourselves.

the early passing of comets, shooting stars and meteors is painful, but natural. we must let them go, grateful we saw them shine.

it's important to sustain gratitude for the impressions our stars leave behind.  even as they die, they create something new in their wake. 

as for the planets, we must learn to sustain them as they sustain us--for although they appear immortal, they too can pass away.

selah

chasin paper

inspiration: twitter & sept. 17

too many holes
in too many hearts
stuffed with paper
money;

unpack 'em
and the light
and love
might creep in...

protect the hoard
at all costs
let it fill our ears
better yet,
cover our eyes...

your greed
cannot obscure the truth:
no matter what it buys,
poverty of spirit
can never be
abundance.

the audacity of hope

i.

after taking
the first step
(dreaming together in
wide arcs and
fanciful possibilities),
we crafted a brief reality
filled with long kisses and
sweet smiles.

ii.

i'm at a loss
to describe what i felt
and what i'm feeling.

but i know the words
i long to hear you say
and what i'd do
to be worthy of them.

obrigado

i've become
so proficient
at drawing my shutters
that i hope,
one day,
i can make him understand
how magickal it is
that he can reopen my heart
with a few words
or a smile
as i sit,
exhausted,
hammer, nails and plywood
still in hand.

in passing...

returning from a visit to see mother, i wandered by a tree with very unusual leaves.

its roots were twisted and tangled and seemed a little bunched up, all but straining to respect the boundary of the sidewalk.

(i can only assume they weren't happy when it was built, but have since resigned themselves to the exchange: a little bondage, to live)

i thought, "hello. i've never seen a tree like you before..."

i sensed a faint but audible reply: "few who pass here think those thoughts or speak to me..."

that nearly stopped me cold, but i had to move on. still, i took a moment to send it some loving energy.

next time i walk that way, i'll stay awhile.

inhalation

i smelled you today.

well, more like
i smelled that same detergent
without you underneath.

but that was enough
to take me back
to nights in your bed
enfolded in firmly placed
nutmeg arms...
safer than i'd been in years.

hoping for that kiss
on the back of my neck
informing me
you weren't asleep
after all...

hearts & stars

for lf

1.
curious cats
joined by sun and moon
and nearly as far apart.

i enjoy the effervescence
of zero gravity orbit,
but pray
for an eclipse.

2.
circumstance is a strange thing.
it seems to stand in the way
when, actually,
it slowly, sweetly
opens spaces and bides time;
makes room for revelations and
well-timed whispers.

four months ago...

...i wrote this:

some days, i still feel really ugly.

and i don't really know what to do about it.

i don't look at people much anyway, but on days like this, i don't look at all; i can't stand to see myself in their eyes. mirrors are impossible. every compliment is a lie.

i go between acute pain and consummate numbness.  neither allows me to hold my head up any higher...

i can feel the truth fighting with the lies. it makes me tired.
all i want to do is rest...stop the warring factions in my mind...

then, the light surrounds me...i lean into it, appreciating the warmth even as i feel i don't deserve it. my shoulders ache, my stomach rebels.

if i could only stop eating, fade away to nothing... a quiet, soft leaving...

but i can't. if i've gotten this far without hurting myself, i won't start now.

i may never get on the list of the world's most beautiful people, but i'm not bad. i know that. just like i know i'm not worthless.  except for days when i turn into a black hole of need...

i'll never be loved enough, held long enough, kissed deeply enough. nothing takes the emptiness away, but i'll lure you in and let you try. i'm damaged goods...not fit for a trash heap. but since you think i'm cute, come here for a minute and show me...show me...i demand to be filled. appeased. eased. shown some mercy.  i'll laugh at you for trying...but try anyway.

this isn't me all the time. or even most of the time. just sometimes....and, now, there are years between the sometimes.

still, when it comes, it floods me--the emptiness. if i can, i fill it with sweet things. but there are times the bitterness wins out.  of course there's also the bittersweet...the mish moshed yin yang of negatively positive thoughts...

i'm posting it now because while i cannot truthfully claim i'll never feel this way again, i do feel that these moments are destined to be few and even farther between.

this will serve as my reminder.

healing is always waiting to happen.

doing it again...

the facebook peer pressure got to me, so i'm going to try to do napowrimo again this year.

found some good tips...and there's always the random haiku to get through the slow days.

so here we go!

idea #40 - start a facebook group

...and if you're really interested in making a difference with said group, read this book.

idea # 11 - challenge conversion

what do you perceive to be the most aggravating thing about you/your life?

now, whether or not you can actually change that thing, can you make it work for you? is there a way to draw abundance from it?

personally, i couldn't stop writing. that seemed aggravating since i didn't plan on publishing a book or anything.  i often thought of it as a pretty useless talent, despite the fact that i love to read and have been deeply influenced by books my entire life. but...i'd never write like that, though...

still, since i couldn't stop, i started a bunch of blogs. they don't cost me a thing, i can blabber on to my heart's content, and i've actually made some wonderful friends because of it.

food allergy? you're probably not the only one. how about a cookbook or food blog?

pissed off about oppression? how about some creative education?{another cool example here}.

name that challenge. own it.  smile at it--even if it's a bitter smirk.  turn it inside out.  make it holler. 

then, gain from it.

idea # 10 - learn the meaning of your name.

i've recently renewed my interested in this, and just read imakhu mwt shekemet's thoughts on it in her cowrie blessings book.  recently, a friend mentioned the revelation she had when learning about a new meaning of her name.  must be in the air.

here are a few links to get you started:

name meanings

namesite {various african names}

behind the name

akan day names

yoruba names

freewrite (for jean-michel)

watching basquiat
draw his crown
wishing he'd smile more
but knowing why he doesn't.

he's always intrigued me:
his beauty
his youth
those impossibly perfect bloodlines...
black lands, rich ports
colonial perfumes, afrikan spirits
retro euro original man mashup.

drugs didn't really kill him
brilliant blackness in america did.

saint day

st. joseph

infinite possibilities

{title track}

dipped in ancient well water, my senses flooded with goddess energy...

i have no idea how to finish that. but it's how i feel.

lately, many thoughts come in those sorts of bursts--incomplete but potent flares of feeling.

over the last few days, i have relived many moments. some joyous, some traumatic, all illuminating.  i have come a long way, and i see a long road in front of me.  i am not daunted by it.  rather, i am encouraged and inspired by the possibilities that await me. 

i hope to travel that road under a sky as beautiful as the one i saw this evening: wisps of peach-yellow clouds floating above a strip of blue sky, giving off just enough light to outline an impossibly thick bottom layer of mountainous, steel gray clouds.

you must be able to walk across clouds like that. you simply must.